CHAPTER 14 #2
I sling the rifle. I draw the hunting knife.
I climb the fence, bypassing the electric current with the remote in my pocket. I drop silently onto the other side.
I creep toward the car.
The operator is humming to himself. He thinks he’s invisible. He thinks he’s the predator.
I reach the driver’s side door.
I yank it open.
Before he can turn, before he can reach for the pistol on the passenger seat, I grab him by the throat and drag him out of the car.
He hits the dirt with a thud. I’m on him instantly, a knee to his chest, the knife blade pressed against his windpipe.
He freezes, his eyes bulging. He sees the scar. He sees the eyes.
He knows.
"Hello," I whisper.
"Please," he chokes out. "I’m just... I was just hired to take photos."
"Photos of my wife," I clarify.
"I didn't know! They just said... surveillance!"
"Who?"
"I don't know! A encrypted app! Bitcoin payment! Please!"
"You’re lying."
I press the knife harder. A thin line of red appears on his neck.
"If you lie to me again, I will cut out your tongue and check under it for the truth."
"Sokolov!" he screams. "It was Sokolov’s men! They wanted confirmation she was there! That’s all! Just confirmation!"
"And did you give it to them?"
"I... I sent the live feed. Just now."
The rage returns, hot and blinding.
Nikolai saw her. He saw her in the conservatory. He knows she is here. The sanctuary is breached.
"Bad news," I say softly.
"What?"
"You just became obsolete."
I don't hesitate. I don't gloat. I simply drive the knife down.
It’s over in seconds.
I stand up, wiping the blade on his shirt. I look at the car. The screen on the dashboard is still showing the feed from the drone, which is now hovering aimlessly as the battery dies.
I reach in and grab the control unit. I crush it in my hand. The screen goes black.
I look at the body in the dirt.
It’s a message. Nikolai sent a drone to tell me he knows. I will send a message back.
I grab the man’s phone. I take a picture of his face—frozen in that final moment of terror.
I send it to the number that contacted him.
Then I turn back toward the house.
The walk back is faster. The adrenaline is fading, replaced by a dark, simmering need.
I need to see her.
I need to see that she is still there. Still chained. Still mine.
I enter the house. I don't bother cleaning up. The blood on my hands is a testament to my devotion.
I climb the stairs. I unlock the bedroom door.
Ivy is exactly where I left her.
She’s sitting up, her back against the headboard, her knees pulled to her chest. Her arm is stretched awkwardly above her, the handcuff glinting in the dim light. She’s been crying.
When the door opens, her head snaps up.
She sees me. She sees the dirt on my clothes. She sees the red stain on my hands.
She doesn't scream.
Her eyes drop to the blood, then back to my face. She searches my expression.
"Did you find him?" she whispers.
I walk to the bed. I stand over her. The smell of copper and pine clings to me.
"Yes," I say.
"Is he...?"
"He won't watch you again."
She lets out a shuddering breath. Relief? Horror? Maybe both.
"Unlock me," she says, tugging at the chain. "Please, Silas. You’re back. I’m safe. Unlock me."
I look at her wrist. The skin is slightly red where she pulled against the metal.
I look at her face. Beautiful. Trapped.
I reach into my pocket for the key.
But I don't pull it out.
Not yet.
The sight of her bound to my bed, waiting for me, her life completely in my hands... it triggers something primal in me. Something darker than the violence I just committed.
I crawl onto the bed.
"Silas?" Her voice trembles. She sees the look in my eyes.
"You look beautiful like this," I murmur, looming over her. "Waiting for your master."
"I’m not a dog," she snaps, though her voice lacks heat. She’s staring at my bloody hands.
I reach out and run a finger down her cheek, leaving a faint streak of the dead man’s blood on her skin. A war paint. A claim.
"No," I agree. "You’re a queen. But even queens need to be protected from themselves."
I lean in, my mouth hovering inches from hers.
"I’m not going to unlock you, Ivy."
"What?" Panic flares in her eyes. "But you said... you said when you got back..."
"I lied."
I kiss her throat.
"I’m going to take a shower. I’m going to wash this blood off. And then..."
I bite the sensitive skin where her neck meets her shoulder.
"...then I’m coming back to bed. And you are going to be right here, exactly where I want you."
"Silas, don't," she whimpers. "Please unlock me."
"Beg me," I whisper.
"Silas..."
"Beg me properly."
She stays silent, biting her lip, her pride warring with her helplessness.
"Fine," I say, pulling back. "Stay there."
I walk to the bathroom. I strip off my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. I step into the shower.
I wash the blood away. But I don't wash away the intent.
When I walk back into the bedroom, naked, wet, and hard, she is still there. She hasn't moved. Her eyes go to my body, widening.
Tonight, the slow burn ends. Tonight, the fire consumes us both.
Because tonight, she can't run.
And I am done waiting.